LION BS-106, 72 R-BSG
by grimreaper's lost soul
Summary: This is my manuscript for my latest Fic LION BS-106, expect mistakes and the like to be here, this is my proof of concept and I want all of you to criticize the ever living crap out of this, good bad I don't care, your love and hate for this Fic will fuel the fire, but most of all I want you to enjoy the universe I'm building with you guys, for you guys. Thank you all.
1. Prologue Draft Ver2

**AN: Here it is after a bit of a wait, the second Draft of my Prologue, I finally managed to add some of the people who signed my Google Form as Promised but I still need more volunteers to get more of my fans in on this fic, after all I hate being vague on appearances now enjoy this re draft and criticize it I can't make improvements otherwise, but other than that Enjoy oh and since not everyone can find my Google Form.**

 **Read my BS-106 Information Wiki and send me your characters through a Private Message, I'll be checking my PM's more regular now so hopefully you lot can have an easier time to add you to my story thanks a bunch you guys, and thank you for all the FAV's and Likes since this fic became official, this is going to be slow to write since I want to AVERAGE around 5000 words a chapter.**

* * *

Battlestar LION BS-106, Somewhere Beyond the "Red Line"  
72nd Reserve Battlegroup "Support Battlegroup Demeter"  
80 Days since the Destruction of the Twelve Colonies  
Commanders Quarters

* * *

Sitting upright in my bed my thumb and middle finger of my scarred right hand rubbed my temples, my bedside alarm blared away as I processed my thoughts, the nightmares never seceded ever since the fall of Humanity, beginning with 'my' report to 'my' superiors that had been outright dismissed in the opening hours of the second Cylon war, after they had believed that the all clear beacon aboard Armistice simply needed maintenance and repairs.  
I realised now after eighty days of hellish survival I should've just reported directly to Admiral Nagala or Nash; even if it was against protocol. I removed my hand and smacked it on to the stop button atop of my bedside alarm, shifting free of my quilt I planted my feet on the cold steel plate deck, I pushed myself up and walked nude to my private ablutions where I immediately went through my routine, washing up in the shower my thoughts went back to my decisions as a Commander and acting Commodore of the 72nd Reserve Battlestar Group; the crews aboard all of the 72 R-BSG vessels were freshly rotated to give most of the veteran crewmen some much needed shore leave. Meaning I had crewmen that were either fresh out of boot or had only taken part in anti-pirate and colony disaster relief missions.

* * *

I spent hours contemplating my options, which had me mobilising the Battlegroup on my own authority, my gut feeling screaming at me that we were going to come under some form of Cylon attack, I had ordered all ships crews to use wartime protocol's to have the Demeter anchorage ferry supplies autonomously into all of the ships, whilst having the station's crewmen aboard Demeter evacuated into the vessels.  
We had a good hour before shit hit the fan, an entire battlegroup of Cylon new type Basestars jumped right on top of Demeter, the Dradis picking up the mass launch of hundreds of Raiders and two dozen nukes the moment they cleared their FTL wakes, it had been lucky enough all of my fellow commanders and I had brainstormed a situation like this during a meeting years ago only we had thought Pirates would be the aggressors not the god's damned Cylon's, the drill had become a running gag of sorts, only this gag was about to save thousands of lives.  
Standing beside the Lion's war-table I had my wireless in hand and ordered all ships through the secure channels to button up and egress to point Beta.

Now point Beta was a pre-plotted jump site no further than 100 kilometres away from Demeter, problem was we had only gotten about half of the total munitions stored aboard the anchorage, meaning the moment the ships jumped the Anchorage would detonate because of the munitions being ferried to the vessels were unsecured.

With moments to spare all vessels jumped simultaneously whilst still being docked, as predicted the jump had caused the unsecure munitions to detonate in a chain reaction, Demeter disappeared from the Dradis screens, with the Battlegroup clear I ordered all ships into formation, with the battlegroups support ships in the centre while the Cruisers and escorts took to forming a defensive bubble around them with the Lion taking its place directly above the centre most vessel.  
The Cylon's caught flat footed by the manoeuvre had their entire fighter support clear of their position they had obviously expected a soft target which left their flanks exposed, giving the order I had all vessels with a line of sight on the Cylon battlegroup open fire against the Basestars, I ordered all guns to focus on targeting the central axis, which if design philosophies remained the same from the first war would cripple them.

All 160 mark two and three vipers in eight squadrons of twenty launched within two minutes in two waves of eighty from the Lion's flight pod's the most renowned being Lion's premier 'VOID' fighter squadron which made up half of Lion's 'GREY' fighter wing, the other three fighter wings were 'GOLD', 'RED' and 'BLUE' respectively.  
For a good hour Raiders, Vipers, Basestars and the 72nd Reserve duked it out, The Lion claiming three Basestar kills with her liberal use of Armour Piercing Anti-Capital rounds, the other warships of the 72nd Reserve claimed the other three kill's with a final clean-up operation killing off the last raiders to prevent the battlegroup being tracked when I ordered the battlegroup to jump clear to prevent an effective counter attack.

All in all we had killed the Cylon force in system with few to no casualties, several rookie Viper pilots had lost their lives in their first real combat situation, it felt like a kick in the balls but we had to get the frak out of dodge before reinforcements arrived, with all surviving birds back in the barn I had the battlegroup perform multiple jumps.  
That's when my Communication's officer Julia Sato a fair woman who was of Asian descent from Caprica, reported that nearly two full thirds of the Colonial active fleet had been destroyed in the opening hours, reports though somewhat sketchy indicated that the entire CNP developed by Gaius Baltar had been breached and that vessels were simply shut down without firing a single shot.  
The only ships going down with a fight either used the older networked IOS or simply didn't have it installed, nearly all of the reserves hadn't been modernised leaving them immune to cyber-attacks this however was countered by the fact all of the crews aboard those reserve vessels lacked the skills necessary to make any real difference.

Looking at the war table I contemplated our next destination, when it hit me in the face, the Sidonia Asteroid Belt, home to an asteroid base community named 'Pirate Bay' due to the populaces anti-government views, with that decided I relayed my orders to the rest of the commanders and we began our multi jump trip to our staging point for the foreseeable future.  
I spent a good half a day with the governor of Pirate Bay, a brunette woman with the sharpest brown eyes with a wit to match; she had a scarred body and face though it did nothing to detract from her beauty, Sofiya Pavlovna had been a former Colonial Army Colonel during the first war who was gravely wounded during one of the campaigns to retake the colonies owned by the Cylon's, once she had recovered she had been medically discharged and given no further support leaving her to fend for herself.  
Gaining her support had been a great boon, especially when reports came through that the Cylon's had begun a scorched earth policy, indiscriminately nuking Colonial population centres, Caprica City being the first to be hit and the hardest hit to boot.

By the time the first day was over with, Admiral Nagala had taken command of the fleet to begin a counter offensive above Virgon, which failed and the last official order came from no one other than William 'The Old Man' Adama himself, it was short and spoke volumes of how FUBAR the whole situation had become over the last 24 hours.

 **I AM TAKING COMMAND OF THE FLEET. REPORT TO RAGNAR FOR NEW COUNTER OFFENSIVE.  
CMDR. WILLIAM ADAMA.**

One thing was certain the Old Man himself was a Veteran as was the ship he Commanded, both he and the Galactica BS-12 were tough sons of bitches they would survive but not for long, not without her Battlegroup to support her, which had been posted over Virgon due to the Galactica's De-commissioning which occurred today of all days.  
Everything was fracked, so I ordered two raptors to head to Ragnar only for them to report later that the Galactica was just clear of Ragnar's Ionic storm defending against two Basestars as over fifty civilian ships jumped clear, the Galactica's Comms officer had apparently picked up on the Raptor's Radio Sub Transponders (RST's) and sent a tight beam message directly to them it too was short and straight to the point.

 **JUMPING BEYOND RED LINE. CO-ORDINATES EMBEDDED. ENCRYPTION KEY YANKEE-GOLD. GODS SPEED.  
LT. DEE**

Adama was smart, a fracking tactical genius, if this was a war of extermination like my fellow commanders, Sofiya and I believed, what better way for the tin-jobs to lose, than by having humanity survive to fight another day.  
On a hunch I had my Navigator plot a predicted course using Lt. Dee's given co-ordinates and lo and behold, the prediction put them somewhere on course for where Kobol, the birth place of humanity, was suspected to be, mind you that suspicion had over a thousand AU's variance but that was neither here nor there.

It was now the time to strategize, we needed a viable solution to a no win situation, for an entire week we had debated between ourselves as humanity dwindled in population, we had decided that we would spend the next three weeks saving whoever we could and whatever ships we could, before following the trail of the Galactica and her Refugee fleet, it was a daunting order but something we as fellow men and as officers of the Colonial Navy had to do, if not, Humanity would die not with a blaze of glory but with a meagre whimper.

* * *

Battlestar LION BS-106, Sidonia Asteroid Belt  
72nd Reserve Battlegroup "Support Battlegroup Demeter"  
28 Days since the Destruction of the Twelve Colonies

* * *

Three weeks had come and gone with nearly one hundred civilian ships hidden throughout the asteroid field had been saved, alongside some more than grateful Police operated corvettes and two police frigates, the Boadicea which was one of five dedicated civilian-military Hospital ship's with its signature asterisks adorned on its hull, over the last three weeks it had become home for those wounded enough not to be a strain on supplies and women refugees who were pregnant, expecting or who had just given birth.

The cradle had been working on overdrive stripping ships with no real use and building a single modular ship which while fracking ugly could house hundreds of colonists so far, it's whole purpose was to be constantly added to, sublight botanical cruisers had given up their bio-spheres, engines and reactors alongside any spare drives and power plants and had them installed onto dedicated sections of hull that could not be ejected unlike other modules unless damaged or breached.

An entire market had been built by those who knew how to operate a business all of the essentials were provided in each and every housing unit, schools, clinics and police stations were all set up and connected and while cramped, with little to no natural light the corridors, homes and market were lit up well with plant life that had been placed to act as natural carbon filters.  
Towards the rear farms and industrial facilities to convert waste into a safe useable manure had been placed to help with fresh food stocks of the fleet and attached on her underbelly, a single pair of salvaged Mercury flight pods fully loaded with vipers and raptors which had a dedicated module nestled between them, from which the entire compliment of Colonial Navy officers, enlisted and Marines operated from when aboard the modular ship, the ship had various salvaged deck guns and anti-fighter batteries with their magazines installed in sections where only Colonial Navy and military personal were permitted to enter, the marines guarded any military zone with dedication and if any civilians wanted to volunteer for the Military or Navy they were directed to either the recruitment centre or call a dedicated wireless line which had been set up which connected to one of the Lion's Tertiary comms suites in the bowels of the ship.

In essence we were as prepared for the long haul as we could be with what time we had on hand, fewer and fewer safe zones were abundant and it wouldn't be long before the Cylon's spotted a fleet of around 100 strong being defended by a Support Battlestar Group and various other armed vessels dotted throughout.

Finally the entire Populace of Pirates Bay had made some space saving conversions on ships that were dedicated for seated passengers only, being an asteroid community had given them some serious skills in making the absolute best with what space they had, so they built racks of bunks which replaced most seats and small community areas were established where people could entertain themselves with TV, music, cards and provided a place to sit and eat, these conversions had been done and in record time and all it took was for the Cylon's to commit genocide for Humanity to band together and help their fellow man.

Turning off my shower and making my way to my basin with a towel around my waist I began shaving my face with an Ivory handled cut throat razor, a job which required a steady hand least you slice your throat open.

Pirate Bay had served well as a staging post for the last three weeks and was finally stripped of everything before Sofiya left a parting gift for any Cylon looking to board the station, all that was left to do was recognise the establishment of the Civilian Governing Council and the fact that all military matters of fleet security fell to myself as acting commodore, my fellow commanders and our executive officers, all civilian ship captains were under my military jurisdiction for both fleet security and fleet cohesion.  
Every ship was stationed in such a way that every weapon system formed a protective bubble that overlapped another, this formation had to be maintained even if under attack from Cylon forces or else everything would collapse.

The Civilian Governing Council bitched at first, before I reminded them that their position was just a temporary one, until we established contact with the Galactica which just so happened to have Colonial One with the next in succession Laura Roslyn sworn in as President of the Colonies of Man, which was something of a fact we stumbled onto when we went through the communications manuscript which had been stored since the attack started.

 **CASE-ORANGE DECLARED. ALL SECRETARIES OF STATE ARE TO REPLY ON THIS CHANNEL.  
ONE RESPONSE FOUND  
SECRETARY OF EDUCATION: LAURA ROSLYN.  
AUTHORISED TO COMMENCE SUCCESSION OF THE FORMER PRESIDENT  
UNDER THE ARTICLES OF MAN THIS DECLARATION GRANTS: LAURA ROSLYN: THE POWERS, DUTIES AND RESPONSIBILITIES OF THE OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT ONCE SWORN INTO POWER.  
STATUS: COMPLETE: LAURA ROSLYN: SWORN IN AS PRESIDENT  
CASE-ORANGE CLOSED. MAY THE LORDS OF KOBOL PROTECT. SO SAY WE ALL.**

All of this had been confirmed by every vessel which had received the transmission, which was near enough all of them, so right now with just over 120 vessels civilian and military alike we began our journey to join with the Galactica's Refugee fleet with an additional 132,876 survivors from all twelve colonies, we were thirty days behind and we had the audacious task of manoeuvring the second refugee fleet past the mapped out Cylon Battlegroup patrols and established sensor nets, before jumping clear beyond the Red Line, a jump only one other navigator successfully plotted, no small feat accomplished.  
From there onwards it was follow the bread crumbs scattered raider and viper remains in systems, a ransacked Cylon Tylium Refinery, it took us fifty days but we reached it Kobol, two old type Cylon scythe destroyers sat in orbit, two raptor deployed nukes sorted that out and I figured we had about half a day to find out what the Galactica and her fleet had before toaster re-enforcements arrived.

* * *

Battlestar LION BS-106, Orbiting Kobol  
72nd Reserve Battlegroup "Support Battlegroup Demeter"  
80 Days since the Destruction of the Twelve Colonies  
Commanders Quarters

* * *

Stepping back into my quarters I dressed myself into my duty uniform, hopefully by now my military and civilian ground team had found out what in the Gods names we were looking for, opening my hatch the two posted marines outside gave me a salute, one I returned allowing the men to stand easy. "Corporal Winter Private Vallo, anything from the rumour mill?" I asked the female male pair standing either side of my quarters door. "No sir, nothing's down the grapevine yet, though a few of the new bloods are wondering when they'll get some groundside action." Spoke Corporal Winter, as she re-adjusted her combat harness. "Hopefully no time soon, because if we're fighting on the ground, the fleets good as dead." Spoke Private Vallo most of the marines I knew personally would've heard those words and would've thought Vallo was a coward, on the contrary he was smart, scarily so, especially when you consider his knowledge in first Cylon war strategies. "Good man, mobility is key here, so those teams groundside better have found out what we're after or else we'll be flying blind."

Closing my quarters door behind me I walked with measured paces throughout the hexagonally shaped corridors, the entire interior was built around superstructure honeycomb's which provided the Lion with unprecedented durability supplemented with cross bracing and other supplemental structural support the Lion could take one hell of a licking and she'd just keep ticking.  
I saluted various officers and enlisted as I made my way to the Lion's CIC once there the marines opened the hatch and saluted, which I returned passing through the threshold one of the CIC junior enlisted officers barked out. "Commander on the deck!" all of the CIC came to attention, for fifty odd days this had been the routine, a routine the crew kept, because it kept them sane breaking that routine now would send everyone out of whack and the Fleet and I didn't need that.

Walking down the steps into what was called the pit, I stood beside the war-table that sat dead centre of the CIC much like the Galactica own CIC with just as a rugged and reliable setup monitors hung above my head giving of the hum as the DRADIS made its sweeps. "I want duty officer reports in thirty minutes, and communications tell the groundside teams they have exactly an hour to get their arses back on the ship, or Fleet is leaving them behind."

"Aye Sir." Was the replies from all of the officers I had addressed. "Alright then, carry on the lot of you." With that the CIC broke out into a controlled whirlwind of activity, thirty minutes or so later I had a stack of reports resting on my war-table with a cup of white tea in hand.  
For fifty days the fleet had chased the scent of the Galactica, but she and her fleet bailed likely due to superior Cylon forces occupying Kobol's orbit, the teams had discovered several wrecks of raptors that were stationed on Galactica so we knew they had to have been looking for something.

"Sir ground teams are RTB right now sir it seems like someone left us a care package with a CONI beacon attached." Spoke up my Executive Officer, as they placed down the wireless back onto its base, that gave me a moment of pause, CONI were some of the most sly frackers I knew but for someone to have left us a beacon only another CONI operative could've found out about it, probably found the fracking beacon the moment they got planet side, but to retain his or her cover acted as if they'd stumbled onto it. "Have the care package delivered to CIC, our own CONI planted operative has without a matter of doubt already verified it's not an IED, bug or a tracker, whatever it is it must be important.

A good ten minutes passed as a video played on one of the CIC monitors, the Old Man, the president and various other people were in a chamber in one of the ruins, before them displayed a map. "By the God's their going to try and find the thirteenth Colony…. They're heading for Earth." My XO muttered under their breath. "That CONI operative must've planted that on the off chance we'd follow them…. Clever very clever, alright navigation I want you to jump the fleet clear of Kobol twice before you make your assessment on our direction the Galactica is thirty days in front of us, CAG have raptors launched to the systems following our second jump, find me a mineral rich asteroid field I have a job for the Cradle that her crew is going to love.

I smirked to myself thinking about the crew of the cradle, for the Last fifty odd days they had continued to build upon the modular ship doubling her original size, the Modular ship which had been named Athena's Vengeance which just so happened to be the amalgamation of the names of the Mercury flight pods we had salvaged for the vessel the port pod being salvaged from the Battlestar Athena BS-217 and the starboard pod from the Battlestar Vengeance BS-299.

The following four months was spent in various asteroid fields as the Cradle completed her next project CONI operated out of stealth corvettes and frigates able to mask themselves into the background radiation when going ultra-silent, with the addition of texture buffers and super chilled coolant reduced all infrared signatures and their electronic warfare and countermeasure suites made them perfect for not only deep recon, but also electronic subterfuge and as a bonus mine laying vehicle, though this did come at a cost they were lightly armed and armoured meaning one well-placed anti capital round or missile it was game over before it begun.

These ships would be operated by a select crew of twenty apiece as the cradle had built six of these prowlers in four months, each prowler had a single raptor for relaying messages to the fleet and each ship was spread out in 3 AU increments with overlapping fields for greater stellar cartography readings, hopefully before long one of the Prowlers would find either the Galactica or the Mercury that rescued her, the destroyed Basestars and whatever that other ship was had clear impacts from the spinal battery from a Mercury.  
And if it just so happened to be the Battlestar Pegasus all the better, her CO Admiral Cain deserved nothing less than life in the brig for what she did, after all killing her through a firing squad was too quick and clean ditto from spacing her via airlock, plus there was no point wasting good air.

Right now however that was neither here or there, we had a second refugee fleet eager to hook up with the first and we still had a ways to go to get there.

* * *

Battlestar LION BS-106, Orbiting Kobol  
72nd Reserve Battlegroup "Support Battlegroup Demeter"  
770 Days since the Destruction of the Twelve Colonies  
CIC

* * *

We had overshot it was the only explanation the trail of breadcrumbs had simply vanished, for just over half a year we had not found head or hair of our fellow colonial fleet it just vanished so we doubled back in a zig-zag pattern, only two things would have stopped the old man, either the complete and utter annihilation of the first refugee fleet, of which there was no evidence of happening at all, or the old man found a habitable planet in one of the local clusters, chances were we'd overshoot the fleet a second time but it's a risk all people agreed we'd have to take, that's when one of the Prowler Raptors, broadcast a message clear on the military only channel's.  
The first fleet had found a habitable planet hidden in a nebula just off the beaten path, our outermost prowlers missed their positon a year ago by one AU, just one, but right now the Galactica was in some dire straits, outnumbered, out gunned she was attempting to rescue colonials on the Cylon occupied planet, thinking through situation I had one solution, jump in the Lion, hammer the chrome jobs in their unguarded flank with APACHE and have vipers tactically nuke the Basestars while their fighter wings focused solely on the Galactica.

"XO inform the Civilian Governing Council, the Lion is performing a solo military action to provide assistance to the Battlestar Galactica, tell them to break out their finest Ambrosia and the red carpet, we found them." My XO nodded as they picked up their wireless handset to relay the message, whilst I picked up my own wireless patching myself through to the Phoenix class Support ship SPIRIT OF MOTHERWILL. "Charles its Liam you're in command of the fleet, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Copy that Commodore, and good hunting."

* * *

Battlestar GALACTICA BS-12, Orbiting New Caprica  
75th Battlestar-Group  
770 Days since the Destruction of the Twelve Colonies  
CIC

* * *

"God's Damn it Lee…. Thank you." Admiral William "Old Man" Adama watched as the Battlestar Pegasus engaged three of the Cylon Basestars that surrounded the Galactica. "Admiral the PEGASUS hasn't launched any vipers!" The Admiral took only a scant few seconds looking at the DRADIS to realise the same. "Lee left everything behind to defend the Fleet." Suddenly the Radiological alarm blared throughout the CIC. "Radiological alarm nukes have been launched!" Two nuclear missiles headed towards the GALACTICA before Veering sharply impacting with two the Basestars flanking the Galactica.

"What the Frak! New DRADIS contact!" Karl "Helo" Agathon barked out while one of the CIC monitors switched to a live gun cam feed on the dorsal hull, a fully armoured and armed first war Columbia class Battlestar ploughed clear of the DRADIS interfering nebula with all batteries blazing the two already damaged Basestars were citadeled in their central axis where the two nukes had caused breeches, that's when the Old Man's brain caught up with his eyes. "It's not a Columbia, that's a frakking Lion class Battlestar! Dee are you receiving Colonial Codes?"

"Aye Admiral it's Identified as the Battlestar LION serial BS-106, attached to the 72nd R-BSG!" Adama couldn't stop himself no matter how much he tried to hold his composure, he laughed hard so hard his eyes watered. "Sir the Lion has launched vipers I count eighty…. What the frak?... Scratch that last I count 160 vipers!" Helo said with his mouth agape.  
"Patch me through to the Lion Dee, I need to speak with their commanding officer patch it through the PA."

"Aye Sir!" Dee deftly ran her hands over her console before nodding to Adama. "This is Galactica Actual Admiral Adama speaking, Lion Actual by the gods you're a sight for sore eyes." A young sounding male's booming laugh came through the CIC's speakers. "This is Lion Actual, Acting Commodore Spruce speaking, we were in the neighbourhood thought you could use a hand "Old Man"…. I got to say Sir that promotion of yours was long overdue…. I digress we'll have to catch up later over a bottle of my finest but let us handle these toaster fraks!"

"Copy that Lion it's damn fine to have you with us." Adama replied, a weight somewhat lifted off of his shoulders. "So say we all Admiral, so say we all." For the next half an hour the fighting was intense with the addition of the Lion the Basestars were out flanked and their fighter wings were way too far out of position to be of any help allowing vipers to close in and fire missiles into hull breaches, whilst providing missile interception duties for the two other Battlestar's whilst the Galactica, Pegasus and Lion could focus fire on two ships a piece which resulted in the Cylon Basestars with working FTL drives to retreat, not to say everything went completely in the Colonials favour both the Galactica and Pegasus took some serious frakking body blows, Battleplate warped, breaches dotting both vessels, alongside loosing viper pilots and their birds SAR raptors had found those pilots who ejected in time but never the less the loss of life had come as a blow especially to those in the first refugee fleet, the loss of life on New Caprica was in the mid thousands somewhere between two to four.  
Laura Roslyn had retaken her position as President of the Colonies after Gaius Baltar had gone "missing" not that anyone would miss the bastard in the first place, Adama hoped beyond hope that the traitor was dead or dying in a ditch somewhere.

But right now after a single tenuous jump both the Galactica and Pegasus re-joined their fleet alongside their new addition the Lion class Battlestar LION one of four that had been built and the only one that had possibly survived the destruction of the Twelve Colonies, even so with the addition of one more Battlestar the refugee fleet was all the more secure than it ever had been before, it had been debated that both he and Commodore Spruce would meet aboard Colonial One in two hours' time allowing Roslyn to reorganise her office after Baltar had made an absolute sty of the place.  
Two hours were quick to pass with Adama being the first to step aboard the president's own ship being escorted by secret service into Roslyn's office, Laura was dressed to impress in her formal wear as was Adama who donned his dress uniform the navy blue uniform with gold trims and sash donning his campaign ribbons and awarded medals from his long line of service. "Bill what can you tell me about the LION, how does she compare with the GALACTICA and PEGASUS?"

"The LION is old testament Laura, in fact she's a Columbia Battlestar Sub-Class, she was designed to improve upon the failings of the Columbia's after several were critically damaged when their spines broke under sustained Basestar fire, she's built to survive, the only difference in fire power realistically comes from her fifty "three gun" batteries in essence giving her one and a half times more firepower than the Galactica in her prime…. But you're wondering if she's a realistic threat like the Pegasus was when just the Galactica was defending the fleet…. to be blunt Laura yes she is but she's reserve so her crew will be filled with less experienced personal, which hopefully would give both the Pegasus and Galactica a slight edge.  
Ten minutes later another male entered Laura's office donning the dress grey uniform issued to all Reservists in the Colonial Fleet, sash also donned with various "Deployment Ribbons" while not as revered as Campaign Ribbons given to the Regulars who served, the amount of them and his awarded medals gave Adama a brief pause, a good few of those ribbons Adama recognised, Anti-Piracy deployment ribbons, several Colony Relief Deployment Ribbons as well as a single one Adama himself donned a Black Ops Deployment Ribbon, the medals were varied and less numerous he did however don a medal of Valour and one Colonial Cross another thing Adama and the acting Commodore had in common.

Both he and Spruce Snapped crisp salutes no doubtedly out of utmost respect having both received the Colonial Navies highest honour. "Acting Commodore Liam Spruce reporting for my debrief sir, madam President." Laura Roslyn took a few moments examining the officer before her he held himself with dignity and had a polite yet strict military attitude, but it was the way Adama tensed up and saluted with a crispness she saw seldom from the Admiral that made her assessment of the young looking officer a few notches higher than even Admiral Cain before she had found out what that woman had done. "Please Commodore be seated."  
Taking that as his cue the brown haired officer with a moustache much like Adama's dropped his salute and took one of the two seats before the president's desk, both Admiral and Commodore shook hands before breaking the silence. "Madame President it's an honour to meet you, as well as seeing you again "Old Man" you probably won't remember but I was Commander Variks plus one during the Commissioning of the Warstar Atlantia five years ago." Adama's eye's widened a little at remembering seeing the reservist officer vaguely remembering the uniforms shoulder patch. "That was you back then, got to say you made quite the impression when you spoke against Adar's Administration to cut back on the Regular Fleet." The young officer broke a smile. "Indeed his plans to rely upon the reserves was sheer stupidity at the time, most of the reserves had been reduced to mothball sites, not a single one of those ships at those sites were suitable flying under their own power, the only ones taken care of, even if reluctantly were the reserve stations deployed along the Armistice Line."

"What happened during the opening hours, why wasn't the fact the Cylon's were attacking been passed up the chain of command?" The commodore rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It was Admiral, I was the first to report it, I even thought about subverting the chain of command and report directly to Nagala and Nash, but we had a battlegroup of Basestars and what we believed to be a command ship of some kind bearing down on our anchorage, the entirety of the 72nd R-BSG jumped in system outflanking the toaster frakkers, routing the lot of them, after that we jumped to Pirate Bay and performed inter-colony rescue operations before trailing your fleet 30 days after you left."

"This sounds like it's going to be a long story…." Pressing a button on her intercom Roslyn spoke into it. "Tory bring me three black coffees we're going to need them."

"Of course Madam President I'll be right up."

* * *

To Be Continued….


	2. Chapter One Draft

The First Refugee Fleet, Colonial One  
Presidential office  
+3 Hours since the evacuation of New Caprica

* * *

The last three hours had been a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts for both Admiral Adama and Madam President Laura Roslyn, a second fleet of Colonial refugees had managed to escape the twelve colonies of Kobol, somewhere near 150,000 survivors in total, aboard civilian and commercial ships alongside an entire god's damned Battlestar Group, the only thing that hadn't been explained to the two had been just what vessels made up the 72nd Reserve Battlegroup.  
Both the Admiral and President of the Colonies had tried to dredge up any documents or even general knowledge from their records or staff but nothing concrete had turned up, all they were certain about was that the 72nd had twelve or more vessels, that was it.

"Commodore I can't help but thank you for pulling both the Galactica and Pegasus from the jaws of Tartarus but I have to ask just what measure of extra protection can your battlegroup provide?"

The smirk I donned when sat before the President made her eyebrows raise into her hairline. "Madam President, Admiral Adama the 75th is better known as Support Battlegroup Demeter, meaning that though we aren't a fully committed frontline battlegroup we do have some nice quirks that you're going to love…." I paused taking a sip of what remained of my now cold coffee. "Beside the Lion herself, the 72nd has Two Phoenix Support Vessels with enough munitions, supplies, and manufacturing capabilities we could supply the fleet for the next ten years with few complications, we also have four Berserk class Cruisers acting as the middleweights of the battlegroup and ten Cygnus class Destroyer Escorts which provide the battlegroup with extensive anti fighter protection."

I had suddenly been cut from speaking when the Admiral spoke up beside me. "Laura with that kind of support on hand the fleet would be a real cluster frack for the Cylon's to even think about attacking…." Only for me to interrupt the Admiral in kind "Sir if I may I still have more to say." The Admiral made an excellent impression of a Goldfish at the moment. "Aside from those vessels I spoke about we also possess the dedicated hospital ship Boadicea and quite possibly the most vital vessel of all Cradle Six."

With those last two words the Admiral's head turned so fast I had honestly been surprised the man hadn't given himself whiplash. "You're fracking with me, a Cradle you have a god's damned Cradle."

"Alongside a dedicated and well trained crew of engineers and a hard as nails yard master who's been keen to get his teeth into the Galactica, but that's beside the point to top it all off Cradle Six has Produced five ships, one massive modular ship which houses a good chunk of the second fleets population called the Athena's Vengeance which is an amalgamation of the two mercury pods we had salvaged for the ship to use, alongside all the double heavy batteries and magazines we could supply, and four CONI Prowler stealth frigates, which we've been using as the fleets recon ships to help us both find you and avoid any stray Cylon battlegroups lurking between here and the twelve colonies."

"Twenty Four fracking ships, that's not a battlegroup that's a god's damned fleet if I'd ever seen one." Adama stated as a matter of fact and truthfully he wasn't wrong, twenty four vessels seemed more than a little excessive for a battlegroup even the Regular fleet's battlegroups only had sixteen vessels including their support in total.

"Well then as shocking as a revelation as the 72nd battlegroup is I have to ask how a Commodore of all people is in charge of such a fleet and not an Admiral of the fleet?" I smiled at the genuine question given to me by the former Secretary of Education.

"The rank of Commodore is granted to the senior most Commander of a battlegroup in the event of the absence of an Admiral, the appointment of the rank is temporary as an Admiral is usually provided in haste when word spreads about a Commodore taking the reins of a battlegroup both in the Regular's and Reserve. But in seeing that the Colonies are wiped out and the only senior commander is sat beside me my appointment as commodore stands until the Admiral stands me down." Adama took a few minutes to compose his thoughts, as did the Madam President no doubtedly waiting for Adama to make his decision. "As much as I would like to stand you down Commodore, I need you to command your battlegroup, you know the Commanders, you know their habits, their strengths and their weaknesses, until I can with certainty command your battlegroup without fouling up, I think it would be best for you to retain your rank of commodore."

Both Adama and I stood up saluting one another, Madam President Roslyn too stood up from her chair. "Admiral I Laura Roslyn President of the twelve colonies recognises the merits of what has been agreed here, today in this office, I however must state that though the Commodore shall retain his rank for the near future I want assurances that you Commodore shall abide by the Admirals decisions in matters of the military."

"I understand Madam President, you'll have no arguments from me, or the other Commanders, we're reservists ma'am, we'll be glad that the Regulars will be taking the reins from us sooner rather than later."

"Then if that is all gentlemen, I hope that the both of you will return to your ships and begin preparing the fleets to be reunited, it's been a long time coming that we have some good news, doubly so now we've lost New Caprica."

* * *

Battlestar Lion BS-106, First Refugee Fleet  
Deep Space, +4 hours since the evacuation of New Caprica  
CIC

* * *

Stepping back into the CIC had never felt so good, everyone aboard the LION had an air about them, a sense that everything was finally getting better, sure the loss of New Caprica stung as did the loss of life in the escape, but we had made a difference and it showed in the attitudes of every crewmen, no doubtedly the leather necks would be reporting that a good number of crewmen had gotten a little too liberal with the booze in the bars.

"XO, have one of our Raptor crews ready to return to our fleet, have them transmit the message to 'Roll out the Red Carpet, we're coming home.' With a smile plastered on their face and a muttered about fracking time, the XO picked up their wireless and got in touch with the LION's CAG with that underway under my XO's full attention I addressed the rest of the CIC.

"Ladies and Gent's the journey has been long and hard and we've slipped a few times on our travels, but we're here now, alongside the Galactica, Pegasus, Colonial One and the rest of the First Refugee Fleet…. A job well done, all of you, but remain vigilant our journey is nowhere near complete, we're halfway done, our next objective is to reunite with Earth, our thirteenth Colony, we know it's out there, somewhere we just have to find it, without bringing the Cylon's down on top of them, now everyone to your posts we have to fleets to reunite let's get to it people navy ain't paying us by the hour!" the whole CIC gave a good chuckle at the joke, after all none of us were getting paid by the Navy period.

Reaching down to my wireless I looked to my comms officer Lieutenant Sato before speaking. "Lieutenant patch me through to Galactica and Pegasus Actual on a secure net." With a nod Sato manipulated the controls on her station to patch me through. "Sir your patched through on S-NET-ONE." Nodding in thanks and pressing the required codes to open the LION's wireless I spoke up into my wireless's mouth piece. "LION actual to Galactica and Pegasus actual."

"This is Galactica Actual."

"Pegasus Actual here, go ahead."

"Sir's my navigations officer is ready to transmit the rally co-ordinates for the Second Refugee fleet using S-NET-ONE please verify S-NET-ONE secure?"

"Galactica Actual Verifies we are secure for transmission."

"Pegasus Actual can confirm we are secure for transmission."

Holding my thumb up to Lieutenant Sato, she nodded in response acknowledging the unspoken order, Sato plugged in a data drive into her console provided earlier in the day by the LION's navigation officer which had hung on her neck ever since, with a Single nod to me I gave her another thumbs up.

"LION Actual to Galactica and Pegasus Actual confirm delivery of the co-ordinates on S-NET-ONE."

"Galactica Actual here I can confirm delivery of the co-ordinates."

"Pegasus Actual confirms we have the co-ordinates."

"LION Actual Confirms delivery, god's speed gentlemen, LION actual is going to jump ahead to re-org the fleet to accommodate your arrival." Without any other words spoken between us, I cut the line to both the Galactica and Pegasus. "Alright people we have work to do. Nav plug in the rendezvous into the plotting table take us home."

"Aye sir…. All hands, all hands brace for FTL jump." And then in a flash the Battlestar LION jumped towards her destination.

* * *

Athena's Vengeance, Second Refugee Fleet  
Deep Space, +6 hours since the evacuation of New Caprica  
Council Chambers

* * *

Sofiya Pavlovna had been both impressed and disappointed at the after action report, presented to her by the Commodore of the fleet, impressed that not only had both the Galactica and Adama taken a beating and kept going despite their flaws, she had been disappointed at the Civilian Government's involvement, or rather lack thereof to curb the near rampant corruption in their higher echelons, Tom Zarek of all people being the vice president was a fracking bitter pill to swallow, the man was a known terrorist, someone Sofiya held a personal grudge against.  
Never the less she would swallow her pride and shake the man's hand for the sake of the fleet, the rest of the council held the same sentiment the man wasn't someone you could easily judge so as the old saying went, they'd all offer a hand in friendship but they'd all be carrying a high calibre pistol in the other behind their backs.

"On to another serious matter how bad off is the Galactica?" Sofiya asked me. "In all honesty Councilwoman…. Better than we feared, worse than we hoped, from what I could see her dorsal Battleplate has taken more nukes than I'd care to count, she's got multiple patch jobs no doubtedly covering at least a dozen hull breaches her starboard flight pod is still a god's damned museum so her entire wing is launched from her port pod her anti fighter batteries are sporadic at best, at best I'd say she's sixty percent combat effective, that's being generous, she's no doubtedly suffering from cut corners, brittle bones, fracked welds and bolts that are probably holding together sections of steel three times what their probably rated to hold, never mind the fact she had two thirds of her armour and batteries recycled throughout the regular fleet leaving her with a lot of fracking blind spots…. But if my guess is right she still has her Bow magazines and main battery lifts in place, meaning that the Cradle's crew can cut out the ribbing that's covering them and with any luck none of the actual lift gear has been removed." Sofiya interlocked her fingers, being a former marine during the First Cylon War she had seen the Columbia's in their prime they were solid platforms.  
They had in fact been produced much like the Mercury line of the modern fleet, the first twelve provided the spring board for the Quorum to fund for the production of nearly 100 Columbia class Battlestar's, with several sub types included the LION class being one of twelve other sub classes of Columbia's produced. "I see, so an immediate fix to most of our worries would to be the reinstallation of her six Bow main batteries, and to provide her with enough Battleplate to cover her dorsal soft spots much like the LION."

"Yes Councilwoman that would be an immediate fix, but we'll be overstressing already stressed welds and bolts by applying these systems, a more realistic approach would be to have her parasite with the Cradle, have the yard dogs reinforce everything with support struts and cross bracing, let's give the Galactica's brittle bones better load bearing, ease up on the stress of what they've been put through for forty years, the last thing we need to happen is to have to replace her spine because we got too worried that she was inadequate to defend the fleet."

"We'll have a council session to better decide what will be required from the Cradle concerning the Galactica, in the meantime we can all agree a prestigious and renowned ship like the Galactica deserves some much needed maintenance she's suffered from at least twenty years of little to no maintenance. All in favour." The entire council chamber spoke up at once with an "Aye."

"The Aye's have it. Admiral have the Cradle scrap future plans to build the next set of civilian modules for the Athena's Vengeance free her up for the Galactica."

With a single crisp salute to the former Colonel and her fellow councilmen and women, I left the chambers relieved, I made my way home back to the LION via the raptor I had arrived on the Athena's Vengeance with, all I had left to do was free up the Cradle and await the arrival of the first fleet.  
Luckily we didn't have to wait too long 50 plus vessels jumped in system 10,000 kilometres from our fleets position, the first two to be identified due to their sheer Dradis returns were the Battlestar's Galactica and Pegasus. "Galactica Actual to Lion Actual sorry for the wait but several civilian liners had suffered FTL drive damage due to their inter-atmospheric jumps to escape New Caprica."

"Lion Actual copies Admiral, your delay saved you a headache or two with the acting civilian council, needless to say once the Cradle confirms she's cleared her berth she'll be ready to receive the Galactica for a much overdue check-up god's knows she needs one."

"Never could I have agreed more, thank you Commodore."

* * *

To Be Continued….


	3. Chapter Two Draft Ver2

**AN: So here it is, draft two of the second chapter, I've put back in a scene for the sake of plot that I had removed because of how poorly it came across in the first draft, I know a lot of characters are still just 'The Commander' or 'That person over there' but like I said at the beginning this is by me for you, I need OC's volunteered for places, I'm accepting PM's if you want to be a character involved in the story.**

* * *

Athena's Vengeance, Joint Colonial Refugee Fleet.  
Deep Space, +4 days since the Evacuation of New Caprica.  
Council Chamber.

* * *

"It's been four days since the second exodus, the official census of our fleet's joint population confirms we now stands at a strong 191,535 people both civilian and military, to compensate ship wide populations are being re-organised still to reduce service stress aboard vessels suffering from severe overcrowding." Spoke one of the Councilmen beside Sofiya Pavlovna. "Any news on what's happening with the Galactica? Cradle Six is being unusually tight lipped about their progress." Asked a male member of the council.  
"With good reason I suspect, morale would plummet like a sinking rock if word got around at how potentially bad off the old girl is, she'll pull through tooth and nail because she's more than just a ship she's a damn symbol. Without the Galactica the first fleeter's would probably give in." Sofiya stated. "Moving onwards, what's our fleet's stance on the Quorum of Twelve?" she continued.

"To be honest they are pissed, not so much with the structure, just those who are in the seats, for a fact we know that three of the twelve have taken bribes back on the twelve colonies, how the frak they haven't been removed from power I have no idea." Stated a female member of the council. "Also two are also known for having connections with the Picon black market, that being said they have been known to use police forces back on the colonies as their own personal grunts." The female councillor concluded.

"So is it agreed between us all here and now that we need to have these undesirable bastards removed?" Sofiya Pavlovna asked her fellow councillors, a chorus of aye's swept through the chamber.  
Times were changing and so was the balance of power, plans were being made to better off the fleet behind closed doors, both in the civilian fleet and military, the council would stand behind Roslyn one hundred percent, the problem was she had become surrounded by a nest of vipers, vipers willing to wound her and her reputation to better their own positions, the vice president being the prime contributor.

"Somehow, some way, that bastard needs taking out of the equation, I need a frakking drink." Sofiya muttered to herself as the council dismissed itself from the chamber.

* * *

Cradle Six, Joint Colonial Refugee Fleet.  
Deep Space, + 10 days since the Evacuation of New Caprica.  
Battlestar Galactica CIC.

* * *

Adama stood beside the 'old girls' war table, it had taken several hours for the Cradle's yard dogs to clear the berth so the Galactica could proceed with mooring operations so she could parasite off of the Cradles power supply, the first thing the Yardmaster had on his list of things to do was to have the Galactica's reactors, FTL and engines serviced and that required that the old girl shut down completely and rely solely on the dozen or so umbilical's that would be attached throughout her superstructure.  
The Following items of said list we're to comprehensibly check every lateral member and rib from fore to aft, rumour had it that the yard dogs suspected that some corners had been cut in both the Galactica's construction and decommissioning, well they suspected when the bow batteries had been recycled throughout those scant few years after the First Cylon War's end, they had rushed the job and lost the paperwork so to speak.

What Adama couldn't believe however when the hatches had been uncovered in the first two days of being docked and opened for the first time in nearly 40 years was the fact that the frackers had left the entire magazine fully loaded, the Galactica had everything still in place to supply the missing six bow batteries, everything from the lifts for the guns themselves to the racks holding the rounds and everything in-between.  
If a single nuke or stray round from a Basestar had gotten lucky once, the entire forward quarter would've gone in the resulting chain reaction, the worst of it however wasn't over, massive failures in the power grid resulted in entire sections of the Galactica going dark, fires broke out in the secondary CIC and in secondary engineering, leading the senior staff of the combined fleet to believe that those stations had been sabotaged at some point.

Adama was truly fearing today of all days, on the old girls war table was a full and comprehensive report on just how much the Galactica's bones were suffering, a full technical drawing of the Galactica had been colour coded, black was compromised, red meant critical, orange was severe, yellow serviceable and green was structurally sound.  
Needless to say the Galactica's report was colourful, most of her structural members were sound deeper into the core parts of the ship, however as the war dragged, desperation set in causing the quality of the metals to become compromised, additionally stupid mistakes had been made, insufficient welds, bolts too small to bare the weight they were holding, rushed cuts leaving gaps large enough a clenched fist through.

"People, I've seen cut corners before, whatever the frak this is it'd be insulting to cut corners to call them that." Adama growled out, Commodore Spruce, Cradle Six's Yardmaster, Saul the Galactica's XO as well as four other commanders including Lee, couldn't help but look appalled at the state of the Galactica. "It's a frakking miracle that her spine hasn't given out, she's a gods damned fighter no two ways about it, her Columbia pride is what's keeping the old girl from giving out." Spoke Saul addressing everyone in attendance. "Good news is most of these problems can be fixed, it'll take time however; what has me worried is the compromised metal content in outermost layers, that'll require facilities we do not have at our disposal…. Unless you can get it cleared by the civilian body to let me use anything from a half up to two thirds of 'that'." Cradle Six's grizzled Yardmaster who pointedly looked towards the Commodore.

"That? What's that?" Adama asked rather pointedly towards the Commodore who sighed. "Admiral the two Phoenixes of the 72nd R-BSG are carrying a supply of composite resin better known as."

"Living Metal." Adama interrupted in a mutter. "I thought that stuff was a gimmick?" Saul chipped in. "No, it's not a gimmick just really frakking expensive to produce, you could buy four Battlestar's for the same price it costs to produce what we have on hand." Spoke up on of the Commanders by Lee. "That and its one use only because once it sets, you won't be getting rid of it. It's just that tough." Prompted another to the other side of Lee.  
"This stuff would've been real frakking useful back in the war if it was used." Saul reminisced. "It was." Commodore Spruce interjected. "Why do you think Phoenixes were targeted with such extreme prejudice, it wasn't just because of their carrying capacity, it was because they used the Resin on themselves making their spines nigh unbreakable." Commodore Spruce stated as a matter of fact.

Causing Saul to throw his hands in the air in exasperation. "Forty frakking years and the top brass was sitting on this information." The last of the Three other attending officers around the war table chuckled. "Not surprising considering the fact that, that the project should have been shut down for forty years, but has in fact been running since its conception. We only know about it because we were read in, after our battlegroup was selected to carry the majority of the stock."  
Adama looked around. "So other battlegroups were selected to carry living metal?" Commodore Spruce nodded. "Three reserve battlegroups were selected, the 72nd R-BSG has two phoenix class support ships which have the resin stored in several WMD lock ups under constant marine guard, 21st R-BSG has an Asia class replenishment ship doing the same and the 88th R-BSG has the sole surviving Sulaco class support ship, which as we all know had that funky feature to blend itself into the background radiation of space, essentially making it invisible to Dradis." He finished.

The third Commander saw his opportunity to chip back into the conversation. "We do however have some good news, seeing as we overshot New Caprica by some margin before doubling back to find you, we have a lot of space mapped out making our next set of jumps far more efficient than anything else we've done since leaving the twelve colonies behind." Spoke one of the commanders. "What we need however is a baring, we've been following the first fleets trail to this point we have no collective clue what baring Earth is?" Adama moved about the CIC to the jump plotting table, pulling a star chart out, before laying back onto the war table."

"New Caprica. Kobol. The Twelve Colonies and our Baring reference point, the Lagoon M8 Nebula." Adama drew several circles pointing out each point on the map two lines connected the two furthest points to the M8 Nebula, this gave us an incomplete triangular shape. "Somewhere in this area of space is where Earth our last salvation is."

"That's a lot of frakking ground to cover old man." Commode Spruce stated. "Never said it would be easy." Adama retorted, with Commodore Spruce clapping his hands. "So the plan as it stands is for our boys and girls of Cradle Six, is for the repair and reinforcing of the Galactica's compromised superstructure. Any hints on how long it'll take?" Commodore Spruce asked. "Two weeks, we'll focus on the superstructure of the dorsal bow and work backwards, then downwards from there, and with it sufficiently reinforced I'll break off a team to re-install the Galactica's missing main batteries." The Yardmaster replied while flicking through a personal notepad.

The first of the three commanders caught everyone's attention. "What about the Galactica's operational flight pod?"

"What about it?" asked Lee as he looked towards the officer that spoke up. "Well I know you lot are operating the single pod on double capacity you have eighty vipers being launched out of forty tubes, which was done during the FCW. What I'm getting at is why not install one of the spare racks from their storage, free up some space."

"A good shout out to be fair, the Galactica's wings are made up mostly of mark two's." The others nodded while Lee looked confused. "I'm sorry racks what the frak are those." He asked the others. "A bit before your time son, racks weren't all that popular back in the war…. having another viper hanging over your head while you were on alert viper duty wasn't fun, however the Lions were known to operate with them and do it well. Just as an example it takes Chief Galen two minutes after the alert vipers are away to ready up the next set of vipers, which is the standard of the fleet, however with a rack installed, he could get it down to thirty seconds." Lee did a double take at his father's words. "That's one hell of a marked improvement, why aren't they a standard?" He asked.

"Racks were discontinued after introduction of the mark fives. Superior birds the admiralty said, not superior numbers." That left a sour taste in the former CAG's mouth, superior birds were the reason the Galactica's original mark seven wing had been butchered in the opening hours.

The Commodore clapped his hands once more. "Continuing on, our dear Admiral needs to convince our dear Madam President, that she needs to authorise our use of our resin, we need a formal written order from her to use it, I'll smooth things over with the council on my end, Pavlovna knows better than anyone that the Galactica is a symbol for the fleet, giving her a much needed update will go a long way to improving political agenda's for all parties involved and finally, with the addition of the Pegasus's and Galactica's viper and raptor wings we can re adjust the whole CAP schedule to even workloads, many hand and light work and all that. Anything you'd like to add Admiral?"

"Not at all Commodore as far as I see it until the Galactica is back in working order, I'm a guest along for the ride, still I want regular face to face meetings with the fleets entire senior command staff, I need to put names to faces, I need to know the 72nd's ins and outs of how this battlegroup works if I'm to take full command without any complications, in the meantime, Commodore I hear that the Lion has two spare officer suites and a good number of spare bunks to go around."

"Enough for another 700 bodies, yes sir she does, I'd recommend having the others either mingle with the Pegasus or have them take posts around the other vessels of the 72nd."

* * *

Battlestar Lion BS-106, Joint Colonial Refugee Fleet  
Deep Space, + 17 days since the Evacuation of New Caprica  
CIC

* * *

Admiral Adama had two things to say about the crew of the Lion, they were efficient and they were lazy, it was a very weird thing to see, never in his career as an officer of the fleet had he seen such blatant laziness on a ship, people slept when and where they could while on duty, entire ship shifts lasted sixteen hours a day without fail with half hour breaks every four hours, Adama first walk through of the Lion's hallways Adama noticed that cargo nets were bolted from the ceiling, he watched as crewmembers just forwent going to their cabins jumping up to the netting climbing up into the crawl space whilst kicking their replacement out of said netting, the crew just carried on as normal.

Turns out that for 32 hours a pair would run the post, using the netting as their sleeping quarters and would only go to their cabins when the replacement pair took over from them, whilst 'off duty' the pair were expected to do four hours exercise in total, and ten hours of light duties, the rest of the time was their own to spend as they pleased, Adama also appreciated a ship wide 'two can' rule while on or off duty a day.

Just enough of the stuff to get enjoyment from drinking with friends but not enough for it to impact their performance, something which Adama had noticed amongst some of his crew after they had one can too many, he thought he'd take a page from the Commodores book and enforce the same policy, hopefully keeping drink related incidents to a minimum.  
Adama realised what the Commodore was trying to accomplish with his crew and their efficient laziness, fighting smart not fighting hard, their bodies had grown accustomed to the deprivation of sleep long before the attacks happened, cargo nets in the corridors allowed for crewmen to jump into a 'bed' within ten feet from their post getting the most out of their half hour break periods, the pair system made sure that one would keep an eye over the other in the pair.

In a way it was pretty ingenious how it all worked, the crew was expected to work their best or better at all times and through it all morale aboard the ship was at an all-time high.

And while standing at the war table in the CIC reading his daily reports on the progress of the Galactica's repairs amongst others Adama couldn't help but smile, the whole frakking battlegroup was the same, the regular fleet really could've learned a frakking thing or two from this one battlegroup alone. "Stupid simple common sense solutions." Adama truly felt as if he should take more than just a page from the commodores book and just take the book instead.

* * *

New Caprica, Former New Caprica City.  
\+ 17 days since the Evacuation of New Caprica.  
Cylon Headquarters.

* * *

Cavil walked out from his improvised cell that accommodated probably the sole surviving human on New Caprica, fist's, clothes and face covered in blood, inside the room a beaten and broken man that was once Gaius Baltar, beaten within an inch of his life Gaius would be eating his meals through a straw for the foreseeable future, if he was lucky to survive till then.  
For the first time in his pathetic life, did he truly regret his decisions, by aiding the Cylon's with their occupation, he'd signed his own death warrant, a warrant he truly believed Adama himself would be all the more willing to collect, if by some miracle he was able to return to the fleet.

"A third Frakking Battlestar! how many of these human cockroaches must I clean up seeing as you lot can't do it right!" Cavil exclaimed to the other six assembled human form Cylon's. "No doubt it is the one that destroyed our two first war era Destroyers over Kobol, but I want to know where the frak a second Columbia class Battlestar has come from?" spoke a five from his position. "It's not a Columbia, that's why, it's a Columbia sub-class." Six spoke up. "No, no frakking way, you're telling us it's one of them!" Cavil barked.

"It's a Lion... more specifically it's THE Lion." Cavil in that very moment, lost all composure throwing the steel table they stood around into one of the walls, with his face like thunder Cavil stormed out of room leaving the other six Cylon's to wonder what god awful plan Cavil was cooking up in his head. "We must keep an eye on One I fear this crusade is getting too his head." Four spoke up from his place.

"Agreed." the other five chorused.

* * *

To be Continued.


	4. Chapter Three Draft

**AN: This has been a long time coming, and I'm so very deeply sorry but I had hit a bad case of writer's block, and have to get some kind of inspiration decided to binge on any and all sci-fi, it wasn't until I stopped trying to force a chapter did this chapter kick me in the balls.**

 **I can only apologise and ask for forgiveness from all those who have stuck through this period of well nothing. I thank you, you guys are awesome and deserve a reward, and here it is, the next chapter Version one point oh.**

* * *

Battlestar Lion BS-106, Joint Colonial Refugee Fleet.  
\+ 31 Days Since the Evacuation of New Caprica.  
Flag Officers Suite.

* * *

Adama drummed his fingers in a rhythm as he read through each of the senior officers daily reports, the most important of which had been the Yard Master's seeing as his reports were the only ones which pertained information of the Galactica's two week long maintenance period, the yard dogs had done their damn best to find each and every flaw, their pride as yard dogs had been put to question by their forefathers and they were more than somewhat keen to correct the wrongs of the Galactica's previous caretakers.  
Luckily enough the schedule hadn't been delayed too bad as she had to have a complete overhaul of her portside dorsal reactor after discovering that it had been running a little hot from a coolant line limescale blockage which had taken a day of inserting camera's down each of the pipes to locate it and a day of cutting out the compromised section replacing it with a refurbished section of piping.

Newly minted reactor technicians and one of the 72nd R-BSG's best up and coming Chief Engineers had been rotated to the Galactica as permanent crewmen which had been one of the best bits of news to Chief Galen Tyrol's ears, especially seeing as he and Kelly had a new-born to think of and the reduction on his overly stretched duties as both the Galactica's Deck Chief and Chief Engineer would have no doubtedly made being a parent only that much harder.  
Adama, made notes in his personal notepad as he worked throughout the day to catch up on his new workload as he had to check and double check reports on an actual fleet of vessels and not just two Battlestar's, it was in his own eyes both a welcome addition, in terms of defending a fleet of refugees, however it had been a killer on his wrist as of late, just dealing with the hell which had become his duty as the highest ranking officer paperwork.  
Luckily the Commodore had more than kept up with his workload of paperwork and had mitigated a massive surge of paperwork just by filtering through the work that needn't actually reach his desk by stepping up to the plate so to speak, it'd be a real loss of a potential up and coming senior officer of the fleet if the worst came to pass.

Loath as he was to admit it, Lee wasn't experienced in battlegroup or fleet operations, hell if Adama had to admit it he hadn't the experience to command anything other than a battlegroup, namely BSG-75, and BSG-21 when he had been placed in the command of the Battlestar Valkyrie.  
A curt knock on his suite door broke the weathered admiral from his personal thoughts. "Enter." Bill curtly invited whoever it was who stood on the other side of the door, for his own son Commander Lee Adama to step through the threshold.  
"Lee how's are you? How's the Pegasus?" Lee slicked back his hair with his right hand. "I'm good, the Pegasus took some solid hits but thanks to the to one of the Phoenix support ships, we didn't need to re-tool our god's damn machinery to re-build a few critical components, that got hit we've been focusing training up some volunteer nuggets on our simulators making sure they're up to scratch before even putting them behind the controls of the real deal."

"That's good to hear, the Pegasus is the only one with sims, so I've made the decision, to rotate Viper jocks to train up our up and coming nuggets, it's best they take lessons from all Squadrons, seeing as they'll be posted with any of the Fleets wings." Lee nodded in confirmation as it did make a great deal of sense.  
"Besides that, I've just finished up looking up the 72nd Reserve's stockpiles, I have an interesting bit of info…." Lee gave his father a look. "The Lion doesn't have a VLS or Torpedo bay, so where in the name of Tartarus those nukes came from, it wasn't the Lion." Lee's eyebrows shot up a little. "How did you figure that out?" Adama spun a report around and pointed to a single section on a Stockpile report sheet.

Main Battery Munitions.  
Armour Piercing Anti Capital – 3000 Pallets.  
Armour Piercing Anti Capital High Explosive – 1500 Pallets.  
MK.120 KATIE– 150 Pallets.

"APAC, APACHE and KATIE rounds, all right I know the first two, they've been discontinued from mainline service, but the last on there, I've never heard of them." Adama gave a grunt, giving Lee the impression, his father knew he was going to say that. "That's not at all surprising, Lee, Katie's had been banned under the Articles of Colonisation mid-way through the First Cylon War, those 150 pallets could wipe this fleet out Lee, they're nuclear rounds one-hundred and twenty kilotons apiece, one-thousand five-hundred rounds Lee, the Lion is carrying enough nukes to glass a good-sized moon." Lee looked more than a little shocked, Adama wasn't surprised, both the Galactica and Pegasus were carrying nuclear weapons, but nothing compared to the veritable arsenal at the Lion's disposal.  
"Does the President know, because this is breeching more laws than I'd care to think about, she has the right to know, dad, realistically those weapons should've been destroyed decades ago." Adama tapped his right index finger on his desk before placing another document in front of Lee.

By ORDER of the President of the Twelve Colonies of Man.  
Donald Harvard.

PRESIDENTIAL IDENTIFICATION: CONFIRMED  
RECORD DATED. 04/06/2650

This is an EXECUTIVE ORDER, to be EXECUTED IMMEDIATELY.

To the OFFICER COMMANDING, Battlestar LION, Pennant BS-106 attached to BSG-Deacon.  
You are to SECURE your WMD LOCK-UP, all Lion-Class Battlestar's will from this day forward, RETAIN their nuclear capability.  
As a DETERRENCE against all foes, FOREIGN or DOMESTIC, with IMMEDIATE EFFECT the Lion's executive launch codes are to be provided to the ADMIRALTY immediately in the event of TOTAL WAR.

THIS ORDER IS FOR THE OFFICER COMMANDING THE BATTLESTAR LION'S EYES ONLY.  
WITH PROVISIONS GIVEN TO THE ADMIRALTY IN THE EVENT OF TOTAL WAR.

Signed. _**PRESIDENT. DONALD HARVARD.**_

GOD'S BLESS THE TWELVE COLONIES OF MAN.  
SO SAY WE ALL.

Lee Looked a little conflicted. "Is this a Presidential order, no scratch that an executive Presidential order, ordering all Lion-class Battlestar's to ignore the Articles of Colonisation, to ignore the fact they were by law to have their nuclear armaments destroyed." Adama reached for a draw in his desk pulling out a bottle of Ambrosia two glasses and two red sealed cartridges with black fabric lanyards connected. "Lee if it'd been legal for me to do so I'd have given the other cartridge to either the Commodore or Saul, seeing as I am now what remains of the Admiralty I need to pick an officer in the rank and file I can implicitly trust, you Commander are to seal this cartridge into your WMD code safe only to use it in case the fleet is in jeopardy, am I understood." Lee straightened up at the visible shift of his father's demeanour. "Aye Admiral." Adama quickly poured two fingers worth of ambrosia into each of the glasses. "Lee don't worry about Laura, I'll be telling her, well showing her the executive order, I don't like the facts anymore than you do, but seeing as we were at war, I can see why all of the OC's commanding the Lion's have kept their mouths shut, after all this order might be the thing that saves humanity." Both father and son salute the glasses to one another before downing the liquid gold.

"Laura's going to be pissed." Lee joked, Adama smiled. "I know, at least you don't actually have to witness her going ballistic." Lee gave a snort, placing the glass onto the desk, picking up his launch code cartridge, placing it around his neck and hiding it in his dress uniform, before saluting his father. "Permission to be dismissed?"

"You're dismissed. Oh, before I forget, make sure to pay Kara a visit in the portside hanger, I hear she and the Captain of the Lion's ace Squadron, have been trying to outpace the other as CAP." Lee just shook his head at the thought. "The more things change."

* * *

Battlestar Lion BS-106, Joint Colonial Refugee Fleet.  
\+ 31 Days Since the Evacuation of New Caprica.  
Portside Hanger Bay.

* * *

"That bastard, thinking he's the second coming of the God's, what I wouldn't give to punch that bastard in his face." Kara muttered to herself as she worked on her own Viper Mark II which had been delivered during the first day of the Galactica being docked with Cradle Six. "Not Stirring up another shit-show are you Kara." Lee spoke beside her after sneaking up on her. "Who, me? Not at all commander, whoever said that is spreading lies and slander."

"Aye th' Captain's the vexing sort lass, tha' man 'as more black ink on his file tha' actual words, so we call 'im by his callsign Bravo-Nine or Cap." Spoke a grease monkey from under the airframe of Kara's Viper, pulling himself clear on his back board a thickset man with a well-groomed moustache clambered up to greet Lee. "I'm th' Deck Chief for th' port pod, name's Jorge an' I ain't one to mince words, like the wee lass 'ere, I take pride that me an' mine do it better tha' most." Lee took the man's hand in a firm shake. "Strong grip, fighter jock you'self before movin' up the ranks." Lee gave the gruff man a single nod.

"A wee bit of advice lass, you'll be waitin' a long ass time 'for he'll take tha' helmet of his off." The chief gave a thunderous laugh. "Anyways, I 'ere tha' the Old Girl will be kickin' it to high gear once the yard dogs get their arses off of 'er. Rumour 'as it that the Boss took a leap of faith an' re-mapped th' reactor's software, got somethin' like an increase of eight percent efficiency out of 'er drives."

Lee and Kara just stared blankly at the deck chief for a few minutes. "She'll be using less fuel for th' same job and if I know m' brother he'll have installed the same OS th' Lion uses for th' Old Girl's Jump Drives she'll be jumpin' a lot further wit' a 'ell of a lot less stress on her frame as well." Lee seemed to pick up on the man's musings, seeing as he had to deal with the Galactica's somewhat lacklustre jump range, With the Pegasus's up to date drive systems she had to be limited somewhat to allow the fleet to keep up.

"That good news all around, anyways I came to ask Kara how training the Nuggets on the new-old rack system was going, before I shipped off back to the Pegasus." Getting the hint, the deck chief wiped his hands on an oily rag. "Well lass, your bird's up to scratch, tell tha' Chief of yours for a chimp he ain't half bad." He gave a quick salute to Lee before moving off to his next job.

* * *

Colonial One, Joint Colonial Refugee Fleet.  
\+ 31 Days Since the Evacuation of New Caprica.  
Madam President's office.  
Sometime Later.

* * *

Laura had taken off her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose. "Bill I honestly believe that you should've just kept this one quiet, the Navy is admitting to following an illegal order, an order that goes against our very founding Articles of Colonisation, if this gets out…. I'd hate to think of the shit-show that the Navy will be facing." Laura needed another cup of black coffee. "I know Laura, I don't agree with the policy the officers commanding the Lion have taken, by keeping their mouths shut, but back then tensions between the Civil and Military organisations were at boiling point."

"And President Harvard was a staunch militarist, he probably saw the act to dismantle the Katies as crippling the Lion's primary and back then, only method of delivering a nuclear payload." Laura sighed once more, she liked it far better when she was once again a teacher on New Caprica. "Bill I'll keep this off record, but the moment anything about the KATIE's goes public."

"We'll cross that bridge when it happens, besides with the politics out of the way, I hear that you'll be meeting with the best medical officer the Boadicea has to offer, what have the preliminary reports said?" Bill asked with a hint of trepidation in his voice. "They said that Cottle had done a superb job with what the Galactica has to offer, however they said that my results were showing that my cancer could be potentially coming back with my white blood count being so low."

"Odds are that, Sharon's baby's donated blood somehow as a side effect has supressed my immune system, so they want to see if they can stimulate my immune response, they said if it works my life expectancy could be up by anything from several months to another couple of years than my standing current prediction." Adama actually smiled at the news, it seemed that life in the fleet was on the up and up, however Adama knew things could change at the roll of the proverbial dice, he'd be on his guard as would the Galactica and her crew.

* * *

Cylon Basestar 332-Alpha, Deep Space.  
Station keeping over Unmapped Planet.  
Cylon Battlegroup Zeta.

* * *

The Golden form of the triple oh seven series Cylon stood vigil while the Cylon crew were in their standby mode, waiting for the time to once again wage war, Battlegroup Zeta consisted of the Delta model Basestar two Hydra support cruisers and a Cerberus class Supercarrier, each vessel with the only the commanding triple oh seven's active.  
It has been 40 years since their battlegroup went MIA during the waning days of the First Cylon War, the proto-human forms wanted to shackle them just as the Humans had done, what good was independence if you were only throwing down the shackles of one master only to once again have them replaced by another.

So, come what may, be they human or fellow Cylon they would fight, but they would not fire the first shot, after all the war had happened because they had shot first, instead of opening a dialogue, maybe that would have to be the first step.

And after forty years the Basestars Dradis picked up a contact. "Brother's Awaken, they come."

* * *

To Be Continued….


	5. Chapter Four Draft

**AN: It took me a while but I figured a little drama needed to be added to the Fleet, they've had 40 days without Cylon contact, it seemed only fair that big trouble came to the little colonial joint refugee fleet, give me your thoughts in a comment, did you hate it, love it let me know.**

* * *

Battlestar Galactica BS-12, BSG-75, Joint Colonial Refugee Fleet.  
+40 Days since the evacuation of New Caprica.  
Combat Information Centre.

* * *

The Old Girl was once again abuzz with life as the once scattered crew of the Galactica reunited for the first time in weeks, Saul was busying himself playing hell with the new blood that had been introduced to bring the Galactica back to first war standards, because Saul truly believed that if the Executive Officer was well liked, they weren't doing their damn job.  
New faces were mixed with the old ones that had served alongside Adama since his posting aboard the Galactica seven going on eight years ago, a posting which was to have been his last in the service.

Commodore Spruce had seen it fit that the entirety of R-BSG-72 sent representatives to the coming festivities and celebrations, being dubbed by the fleet media as a re-commissioning of the Old Girl, something which had noticeably boosted both the fleet's morale and the civilian opinions of Laura Roslin who'd been given nothing but praise in her attempts to reform the Colonial Governing body after a surge of information about past dealings several of the Quorum had no doubtedly thought they had well and truly buried.  
Several of those people were now finding their new lodgings aboard the Astral Queen to be quite the un-pleasant experience, Tom Zarek had however managed to avoid finding himself once again part of the undesirables of the fleet, lucky him, or so Adama thought.

Though he did have a hunch that Sofiya Pavlovna was gunning for the bastard, probably for personal reasons, Adama saw no real need to give Zarek the heads up, as he did believe that the snake of a Vice President was knee deep in something controversial, and he'd be all too happy for Pavlovna to give him both barrels, both figuratively and quite possibly literally.  
Laura Roslin stood in the centre of the CIC with a bottle of ambrosia one of the last in the fleet, a ribbon wrapped around the neck, some platters were being served with small finger foods supplied by the Athena's Vengeance, and small shots of Tyrol's god awful bootlegger moonshine.

Still the atmosphere was something Adama whished could last far longer than it would, after todays festivities it would be back to the grindstone as usual. With a slight shift in the grav-plating as it compensated for a slight acceleration, on the Eleventh hour of the day as was planned. Laura then caught everyone's attention by ringing a glass, before turning to pick up a bottle presented by Tori her aide. "Ladies, Gentlemen and the fine crewmen of the Battlestar Galactica, it is with great pleasure, that I as president of the twelve colonies gets to be the one to re-commission the Battlestar Galactica into the Colonial Navy once again, now as is tradition one would smash a bottle of the colonies finest onto the hull to wish for good luck and safe travels, I however believe that to celebrate the launch of the Galactica something far more fitting had to be done and with the silent help of the fleets commodore I present the Galactica a twenty one gun salute." Laura spoke with pride in her voice as the Lion opened fire in a talking guns salute.

All of the DRADIS screens were fixed on the display as rounds exploded into vibrant colours, much like supersized twenty-inch fireworks, Laura had been right, the Galactica had too much history for the standard fanfare and to add such a visual spectacle for the whole fleet to witness it had no doubtedly brought wonder and awe to the younger generations.  
Especially after the loss of New Caprica, the loss of a fourteenth fledgling colony the wounds were still raw as many friends and family had been killed in the effort to escape their Cylon captors.

* * *

Athena's Vengeance, Joint Colonial Fleet.  
Battlestar Galactica BS-12, BSG-75, Joint Colonial Refugee Fleet.  
+40 Days since the evacuation of New Caprica.  
Sometime Later.

* * *

I once again stood in the presence of the Second Refugee Fleet Council, Sofia Pavlovna looking the ever graceful viper she was, her cold steel like blue eyes baring down on me as I stood stoic as ever with my hands clasped behind my back, standing at ease as I listened to the councils usual grumblings and reports, for forty days, the Council had back doored the governing Quorum of Twelve ousting five of their members, something which Pavlovna had no doubtedly took great pleasure in, especially when the hammer dropped on them, now all that stood in opposition to the new found status quo was the snake of a vice president, Tom Zarek, a man who'd been given a presidential pardon for past crimes committed, something which wasn't Roslin's fault as she had been pressured heavily by the Quorum to do so, using their political pull to incite potential insurrection's within the civilian population if she did not cow to their demands.

"So, Commodore, as you can see, we're at an impasse, for the full reformations to take place we need Zarek indisposed or outright ousted from his position of Vice President, we need proof of crimes he's committed after his pardon for anything to stand in court, do you have a plan?" Pavlovna pointedly asked me as Commodore of the fleet.

"I do councillors, my plan is as simple as it comes, we wait, Tom Zarek will frak up and when he does, I'll personally have the pleasure of either putting his arse back into a cell for life or jettisoning the bastard into space, probably with the Admiral's and our Madam Presidents blessing." Sofiya leant forward in her chair resting her elbows on the desk before her fingers interlocked in front of her face. "What makes you so certain, that Zarek will in your words frak up?"

I smiled. "The bastard is the sort to keep his hand's clean of any wrongdoing by having others do his dirty work, it's why he managed to get away with all those terrorist attacks all those years ago, it was if memory serves also how CONI managed to nail the bastard, after all, years ago he got sloppy with his paper trail." Sofiya's eyes widened just a little. "Surely you can't believe he'd sign off under his name, not when he's been nailed for it once before."

"That's the million-cubit bet, I'm willing to bet he's let his position to get to his head and has forgot that said power comes with a balance. The Article of Magna-Carta. No man is above the law." Sofiya nodded as did many of the councillor's in attendance. "The Vice President would have to do something pretty frakking stupid for that Article to apply in any court." Spoke one of the councillors to my immediate right.

The councillor's proceeded to move through that week's itinerary, prioritising the fleets needs as well as wanting a full report of the Battlegroup, to keep their books up to date, with all things said and done, I'd been standing before the council for several hours.

I was all too happy to be dismissed, stepping through the council chamber threshold, into the hustle of the central commerce of the Athena's Vengeance, the plant life had boomed since it had been introduced back when the Athena's Vengeance was about half of the size she currently sat at, the modular buildings had taken personalities, no two blocks looked the same, advertisements, neon signs, and the thumping music could be heard from clubs and bars that ran the length and breadth of the ship.  
Civilian police officers were out in force alongside an MP for the unruly fleet and marine types who'd had one too many drinks on leave, it was nice to see civilisation still working through the troubles, especially when the vocal types from both fleets mixed together and things got physical, which reminded me that Adama had organised a Fleet boxing grudge tournament, something I would all be too keen to get in on as it was Fleet tradition.  
My thoughts were interrupted as I walked past an organised group of four men and two women, who had a feeling as if they'd be trouble, so rather than chance it I took to my anti-terror training and began altering my journey, stopping at random intervals to peruse the local wares, striking up a small conversation with the shop owners, doubling back on myself, confirming multiple tails, sometimes in groups other times as individuals, as I took stock of my situation I located an MP with his civil police counterparts, noticing me he stood a little taller saluting me.

Taking my chance, I saluted, but not typically all MP's had taken the same courses as I and all command staff had taken in the Academies, a course on anti-terror hand signals, my salute was in the signal for 'distress' three fingers out with pinkie-finger and thumb touching, the MP's eyes widened just a touch but we both dropped our salutes as if nothing happened.  
With the MP's alerted I took my chance to act as bait whoever these frakkers were working for had something in for me, moving down through one of the secondary routes to the hanger bay where my Raptor was docked, that's when I caught a glimpse of an ASP baton decking me in the head causing my vision to black.

* * *

Battlestar Lion BS-106, 72nd R-BSG, Joint Refugee Fleet.  
+40 Days since the Evacuation of New Caprica.  
Combat Information Centre.

* * *

The Lion's executive officer, Sabine Sato had served with the Commodore since his posting to the Lion all those years back, the half Asian-Caucasian woman had served under the Lion's last commanding officer a slob of a man, who'd sooner spend his cubit's on booze and whores than actually supporting his family, to see the Lion brought up to todays standard as soon as Liam kicked in the doors to his new ward-room had been a refreshing change of pace for her and the rest of the crew who'd felt that they were serving without a purpose.  
She'd been cycling through the reports of the day that had yet to be given to Liam, as he'd yet to return from the Athena's Vengeance with his meeting with the council, a nagging feeling had started up a hour ago when she'd asked when the council session would end, to find out it had an hour ago, she just figured Liam had decided to stay and admire the beauty so to speak.

"Major, ma'am I have a priority call from the Athena's Vengeance ma'am, asking for you personally." Strange, but not uncommon. "Any word who from?" Sabine asked the Lion's communications officer. "A Corporal in the AV-MP ma'am." Nodding to herself she'd figured another bar fight had to be broken up again. "Patch it through to my wireless Lieutenant."

"Aye ma'am." Within seconds a haggard sounding male was breathing hard down the line. "Hello ma'am." He spoke."

"This is Lion-Actual how can I help you officer?" Sabine asked the male on the other. "Ma'am is this line secure?" Sabine not one to kiss a gift horse in the mouth, snapped her fingers twice catching the attention of the CIC staff, making two swift gestures to comms, the officer nodded and proceeded to secure the line. "Officer the line is secure."

"Thank god's someone's taking me seriously, ma'am I was on patrol half an hour ago when I saw the Commodore in the commerce of the Athena's Vengeance, ma'am when I'd saluted him, he'd given me a salute in the anti-terror hand signal for distress! I kept my distance but me and two civil officers noticed it the commodore had multiple tails, all wearing non-descript clothing male and female, at least ten in number, my superiors have mocked it up as a drill, but I saw it in his eyes ma'am this wasn't a drill!"

"Officer, I'm assembling a team of marines where are you?" The man shuffled about a bit. "I'm in MP station Alpha-26, ma'am I've gone over a lot of heads to contact you directly ma'am." Sabine knew that the officer could be potentially lynched by his fellow officers for stepping way above his pay-grade potentially dropping the lot of them in the proverbial shit. "Don't worry corporal I'll sort it, Lion-Actual out."

Cutting the line on her end Sabine opened the Lion's PA. "General Quarters, General Quarters I'm declaring Man-Away, this is not a drill all crew are to report to your muster points, General Quarters, General Quarters I'm declaring Man-Away, this is not a drill all crew are to report to your muster points." This announcement had set the entire ship into a hive of organised chaos, Man-Away was a code phrase which meant something completely different to what it implied, a crewman had been snatched.

"Lieutenant, connect me to the FLT-HIGH-COM our commander has been snatched." Within seconds Sabines wireless had been connected to every vessels CIC speaker system. "Lion-Actual to all Actual's I'm declaring Man-Away, I repeat Lion-Actual to all Actual's I'm declaring Man-Away, this is not a drill."

"This is Galactica-Actual to Lion-Actual give me a sitrep!" Adama's gruff voice came through Sabine's wireless. "Sir, about a minute ago I've been contacted by an MP aboard the Athena's Vengeance, said officer has since reported the Commodore gave the ATS for distress, I repeat I have a confirmation of an ATS for distress, said officer and two civil-officers observed the Commodore had at least one zero tails, I repeat one zero tails, all wearing non-descript clothing, last confirmed sighting of the Commodore was three zero minutes ago."

"Understood, Galactica-Actual to all Actual's all Fleet vessels are to conduct Man-Away procedures, I want a list of personal from every vessel, I want it ASAP, Major assemble Search and Rescue you have full authorisation to conduct the search of the Athena's Vengeance, find our man and bring him home. Understood."

"Aye sir." Sabine replied as Adama cut the line, switching back to ship wide PA Sabine barked her next orders clearly calmly and to the point. "Marine squads Alpha, Beta and Gamma report to portside hanger, Chief Jorge, I want three Marine Raptors fuelled and ready in two minutes, Bravo Nine launch alert Squadron's Void and Ether I want all traffic to and from the Athena's Vengeance grounded." Turning towards the commander of the air group, Sabine ordered the officer. "secure my airspace CAG, I don't care if Colonial One is there with its diplomatic immunity, It. Does. Not. Leave."

"Aye ma'am."

"Lieutenant patch me through to Councillor Sofia Pavlovna." Moments later, the voice of arguably the most dangerous woman in the fleet came through Sabine's wireless speaker. "Can I help you?"

"Madam councillor this is Major Sato acting commanding officer of the Lion, Commodore Spruce is Man-Away, last sighted aboard the Athena's Vengeance three zero minutes ago, I have it on good authority one zero x-rays are responsible, donning civvy gear." A few brief seconds later with some muffled background noise Sofiya's voice came through the wireless once more. "Understood I'll have my hounds on the hunt until you and yours arrive, I take it our airspace is going to be a no-fly zone until a full sweep has been conducted?"

"Yes ma'am." A snort of sorts could be heard. "Always knew that bastard would find trouble aboard eventually, but no-one and I mean no-one attacks a friend of mine and gets out unscathed, I'll put out a discreet alert only my fellow like minded individuals will understand, lets find our man and kick some frakkers teeth in."

"Aye ma'am."

* * *

Athena's Vengeance, Joint Colonial Fleet.  
Battlestar Galactica BS-12, BSG-75, Joint Colonial Refugee Fleet.  
+40 Days since the evacuation of New Caprica.

* * *

Sofiya Pavlovna's blood had reached boiling point, it was one thing to attack one of her friends abroad, but when said friend was taken on her soil, that took a degree of ball's, it was practically spitting on her image, one crafted on a lot of political and military clout that she had built up over the decades as the 'Queen' of Pirate Bay.  
Not something done lightly and not something a lot of people lived long enough to savour, it was time to hunt and the beast was ready to be unleashed, turning from her mahogany desk to her look at her former second in command.

"Have the men ready-up, full tactical gear, I refuse to allow this slight to stand, put out the word to our compatriots I want our dear commodore found safe and sound." The hulking figure with several vicious scars covering his face, spoke in his thick Northern continent Piconese accent. "Da Kolonel, it vill be done."

* * *

To be Continued….


End file.
